The Secret Life of Argus Filch
by Varietygirl9143
Summary: by my brother... Argus Filch has dangerous secrets and only you, dear reader, can uncover them! Have fun. NO FLAMES! done in the form of a mission log, most of the time.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is not my story; it's my brother's. But he doesn't own HP, either! If he did, I'd make him give me 20 of all his profits. I'd be rich!

Prologue

Have you ever known someone for a while, for long enough that you know that person like the back of your hand, and then you find out that you are completely wrong? That is what my life as Argus Filch is like, although no one has ever found out my secrets.

I became entangled in the wizarding world at a young age. How this happened I will not tell you now because it would be a great waste of my time and yours. It is a long story to say the least.

In reality, I'm not really a squib. I am a muggle and I am an agent with the CIA. I have learned bits and pieces of magic but I am not very skilled in that yet, except for oclumency, which I have been getting steadily better at. It helps calm me down.

No one, except for a select few whose real names I do not know, knows who I actually am. It is also strictly against CIA policy for me to tell you my name.

What you are about to see and read are my accounts of recent missions I have done in the wizarding world.


	2. Chapter 2

I finally got my brother to tell me where he's keeping his notebook! That means I can update for him!

Disclaimer: my brother doesn't own Harry Potter. If he did, I wouldn't be writing this for him.

Mission Log 

November 17, 0900 hours

Today I tried to spice up the same old, deathly boring, monotonous routine that I have fallen into which consists of cleaning the castle and later on practically torturing some kids to force some ideas and lessons into their most often thick skulls, even if I do slightly enjoy that last part. When I was washing the castle I placed small security cameras in every room and hall. The only reason they work is because the power-source is transmitted from outside the school grounds. Then later on in some of me free time I practiced my summoning charm; it's not very good yet, but it has improved considerably. I am now enjoying one of two bottles of fire whiskey I summoned from Snape's pocket when he wasn't looking. I don't think he'll miss the two bottles of butter beer either.

Snape has been acting very strangely, though lately everyone has been. It could be that I am right in thinking that he is allergic to Mrs. Norris, my cat. I have been moving a bit closer to him lately when I walk past him-- accidentally, of course….

But everyone has been acting strangely ever since that stuck up, toad-faced, teacher showed up. All right, I realize that I said that she's the best thing that's ever happened to this school, but seriously, she's a creep. Although she has been here a while now, she has been acting strangely too. I mean, more than usual. She seems kind of jittery, and although her face is always trying to hide behind that huge, disgustingly fake smile, the look in her eyes is almost paranoid.

And although there is not as much for me to clean up lately, I am also getting stressed out. As much as I would love a vacation and I'm sure Dumbledore would grant me one, I cannot predict what Frog-Face would do and I think that Malfoy and his goons are planning something. That and it wouldn't be a vacation. My boss would probably pick me up and question me about how my missions are going. I can never escape from "the office."

November 17, 2300 hours

Fire-whiskey is an amazing thing. If you have just enough, you stay sober. If you have too much, you wake up later in a place you don't remember and you have the hangover of a lifetime. And my most recently discovered effect is when you have too little: among other side effects, you can't sleep. I have had the immense luck to discover this last effect tonight, and boy, does it ever suck.

I have started to walk around the castle grounds. The time has to be close to 11:30 by now. I feel like I downed an espresso, a cappuccino, and a frappucino (A/N: no idea how to spell that) all at once. I'm glad all my senses are still working properly. I feel like it is noon and I'm beginning to wonder if Snape or someone else drugged this Fire-whiskey. I feel like I'm turning into a zombie.

I've been thinking about my mission. My boss is pleased. So far I've compiled much information. I sense that I may be getting a new mission soon, however. But I think that the guys back at the office will keep me here.

Suddenly I heard a noise behind me. I listened closely as my pulse quickened. It was definitely coming closer, whatever "it" was. My hand automatically flicked towards my taser stun gun. It'd saved me many times before. The sounds were getting very close now. It sounded big. I could feel my heart beating in my head. I could see it now. It was pretty big, and it was lumbering along and sometimes tilting precariously. Apparently I didn't have as much control over my body at that point as I thought I did. My arms were shaking. All of a sudden, I accidentally fired. I got scared then. But the wires hit it right in the chest.

Wait a minute—_chest_? Then I realized that what—or who—I had just stunned, was human. I ran over to check it out. It was Professor Trelawney. I thought about saying something but all thoughts of that were wiped form my mind as something which looked like a bolt of yellow lightning flashed only inches away from my head. I recognized it. It was the Expelliarmus spell. Someone had seen me!

I pulled my taser again and tried to fire at the source but the weapon needed recharging. I almost swore as I quickly put it back in its holster. But suddenly I remembered something. I pulled back my robe and took out another weapon. This one was a bit bigger, though. It was a new CIA stun gun prototype. There are three settings: watts, volts, and amps, known to our agents as rare, medium, and well done. You typed in a number and put it on one of those settings and it shot out that amount of electricity. It used another new CIA prototype—the nuclear battery. It lasted longer than other batteries and could send out bigger currents. I set it at level one and had already put in the numbers. The person did not last long. Not many people would be able to stay conscious for a while when 50-watt waves are pulsing through their bodies. I walked over and flipped the body over. It was Umbridge—looking like a caricature of Einstein with all her hair standing on end. It was frizzled and it looked like it was smoking.

November 18, 0015 hours

I managed to lug them both back up to their rooms and put them in their beds. Then I dragged myself downstairs and collapsed into my bed. Although I knew that the prototypes worked and that I could rest easy knowing that neither of them would remember a thing once they woke up, it still took me a long time to relax and get to bed. What a day; what a night.

Review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: My dorky little brother is not J.K. Why? 1) He's not a girl. 2) He wouldn't be writing this if he was. 3) He just isn't. End of story, good-bye! (You gotta love Moody.)

**Blah-ish note**: um, this is the next chapter of The Secret Life of Argus Filch, which is obvious because that's the title at the top of the screen. Chapter 3 (or 4 depending on how you're counting) won't be out for a while because, well, my brother's too lazy to write anymore right now. Never fear, I keep bugging him.

Mission Log 

December 14, 0800 hours

I woke up quite refreshed in the morning. I was feeling better than I had in a long time. But I was hungry, so I went to the kitchens and pretended to inspect them. And who should I see there? None other than Draco Malfoy. As I called to him, I saw he was leaning over a bunch of large goblets. He was fumbling with something in his back pocket when I called to him. He whipped around and I saw his hand stray to his wand. When he saw it was me, he quickly put his hand down. As he tried to act casual, a plan was forming in my head.

"Malfoy, I would like to see you in my office directly after breakfast. I want to talk to you. Alone." I said.

He nodded, still looking rather sheepish. As he turned to go away, I used one of my well-practiced summoning charms. (They were coming along quite nicely, and I was getting rather good at them. Four years of that Quick Spell course will do that to you.) I aimed it right at his back pocket. Sure enough, a bottle came whizzing right into my hand. I quickly muttered another spell to make him trip, grabbed a small bottle, filled it with some pumpkin juice from one of the goblets Malfoy had been leaning over, ran to him, helped him up, slipped the pumpkin juice bottle into his back pocket and said gruffly, "You ought to be more careful around here. Want some bacon?" I took a plate from a passing house-elf who was carrying many platters of the stuff. He took a few pieces, ate them and thanked me while I finished off the plate. Hey, who can resist bacon? I went off for more food while he went back to the goblets. I pretended to not notice this. Sure enough, he took the bottle in his back pocket and emptied the contents into one of the goblets. Was he daft? Had to be. Pulling a stunt like that when there's an adult in the same room. I didn't even have my back turned!

Soon afterwards, he left. I checked what the label on the bottle said. Someone, presumably Malfoy, had scribbled the words 'Sleeping Potion' on it. Gosh, the boy has awful handwriting. I asked a house-elf where the goblet Malfoy had doctored was headed, even though I already knew the answer. Just as I had predicted, it replied, "Gryffindor table, sir."

December 14, 0900 hours

After breakfast, I saw Malfoy in my office. I calmly asked him to sit down, and he did. I told him that this morning he had given me an idea. I said that he could help me spot troublemakers, and all sorts of crap like that. I then casually asked him if he was thirsty. I didn't quite catch his answer but I poured him some of tea anyway—and some for me too. Make it look less suspicious. Into his glass I poured something else too, when he wasn't looking. Soon afterwards I dismissed him. We both had smiles on our faces, but mine would soon be a grin and last for much longer than his would.

December 14, 1100 hours

It is nearing the middle of the school year now. People are getting ready for break and the like. But enough of the small talk.

I made contact with my boss. He said that while I have been doing well lately, 'intelligence' found out that someone—specifically a wizard—knows my secret. They are sending over another agent to help me "eliminate him at all costs." In other words, this should be fun.

December 14, 1500 hours

'Intelligence' found out something else too. The wizard-to-be-named-later, codenamed "shark" has been actively seeking me. So far, he has managed to track me to the castle grounds. Two nights ago, he killed a centaur on the edge of the forest. Obviously he didn't mean to, because satellite footage and audio tracks showed him leaping around whacking and kicking things and swearing viciously. My boss told me that we move in tonight. My accomplice, whose name is Taylor Mitchell, known to most simply as Agent Mitchell, is going to be air-dropped at 2000 hours, or in other words, at eight o'clock tonight.

I am just outside the school grounds and it is 8:02. I am starting to get worried now. I would contact them but radio contact is strictly forbidden at the moment. I scan the horizon again for them with my specially equipped night-vision, heat-sensing binoculars. This time I've found them, or at least I think. Yes, it has to be them. It looks like a stealth helicopter. Sure enough it was them, and I helped to steady the rope when Agent Mitchell repelled down.

That was when I found myself staring into the face of a woman. An attractive woman. One of those tough-looking brunettes that you know as soon as you look at her that she is not to be messed with.

I raised my eyebrow. She must have seen it because she stuck out her hand and said, "Yes, I'm Taylor Mitchell. Pleasure."

"Pleasure's all mine." I muttered. Then after an awkward silence, I asked, "So… how's it going?"

"Not bad, but we need to get to work," she replied; suddenly her voice had changed to a very business-like quality. "We've already given Shark a fake hint that you'll be active tomorrow and not tonight."

"Good. Now, what've we got for weapons?"

"Oh, the usual, and a bit more. We've got the automatic 9 mms, and 12 mms hand guns, a new type of machine gun, two automatic rifles, a machine gun type pistol, a sniper rifle, two packs of chemical explosives, four packs of the new mini electro-magnetic bomb, four stun grenades, four hand grenades, and your favorite, the long-range, automatic, tri-barreled, grenade launcher. That's pretty much it, not counting our stun guns."

"You like to travel prepared, huh?" I joked. She just gave me a look that clearly said, "shut up."

"So, not much, then," I said.

"No, not really," she responded.

Did I ever mention that I love this job?

A bit later, we started down the hill that we were on.

"We've given Shark a fake appointment with Dumbledore. He's going to 'meet' him in an old abandoned warehouse by the seashore. 'Dumbledore' is coming alone, so Shark probably won't suspect anything," Taylor said.

"Ok, and the warehouse, is it that two story one, with the three chimneys?" I asked as I loaded clips into my 9 mm automatic.

"Yeah, that's the one," she replied.

As we reached the seashore and the warehouse (A/N: isn't it convenient? There's always a warehouse around when you need one.), we started looking at the terrain. After we had seen that the warehouse had only two doors on the ground level, we decided that Taylor would take up a position in a tree at the top of the hill near the back door, while I would be in a small hole beneath one rock and behind another on top of another hill, conveniently positioned near the front door of the warehouse. Now all we have to do is wait.

Ok, now you review. You know how to do it: you click on the purple-y button in the bottom left corner, you type out a review (lame or otherwise), and you click submit. Do it. Now. Please?


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Yes, it took my brother entirely too long to get his notebook to me so that I could type this up. Yes, it took me entirely too long to convince him to actually write in said notebook. No, he's not JKR.

---

About fifteen minutes later, out target arrived. I was surprised that he was behind schedule. But he was here nonetheless, and he started slowly walking to the front door. Excellent, he was moving towards my door. I pulled out my sniper rifle, which was loaded with tranquilizer darts, just like all the other rifles. As much as I dislike it, we did not have permission to shoot real bullets at him unless he attacked us. We still had to bring him in alive.

I looked through the scope of the rifle. Perfect, he was still walking slowly; easier to hit that way. I centered the crosshairs just below his shoulder blades and hit the laser aimer to make sure. Sure enough, I saw a little red dot appear on his coat through my scope, just where I wanted it to be.

At that moment though, he suddenly stopped and twitched his head slightly. I was afraid that he could sense us, so I pulled the trigger before he could move.

---

Fate, fortune, and luck. What do you know. Not that any of the three previously mentioned things were good; quite the contrary. Although the silencer, the sound dampening coil, and the sound energy converting coil all worked fine and did their jobs well, the moment that the dart left the barrel of my gun, "the Shark" did something very unexpected: he sneezed. And a very powerful one too. Bent him right over, which meant that the dart whizzed right over his head. So much for that attempt. Once he had recovered and fully realized what had just happened, he twirled around and started looking about wildly. So much for secrecy and stealth. Crap.

Anyway, either he was being random or he heard something, but next thing I knew he was firing an "expelliarmus" in my direction. It was about five feet over my head and it almost hit a tree, but he had attacked nonetheless and now it was a real battle. Excellent.

He dove behind a small rock and I could see Taylor's dart flash by right next to his left ear. Now he was starting to look scared. I pulled out my machine gun as he started to bolt. Taylor's darts hit the ground just behind him as he tried to get away. However, I launched a two-second burst of blanks right in front of him and he turned around and went for the warehouse.

Taylor and I decided that this was a perfect time to charge in after him and we each headed cautiously for our own doors. I pulled out my automatic 9 mm pistol and my pistol-type machine gun as I kicked open the door that he had just shut.

I entered just in time to see him to see him disappear down a corridor. I fired two shots and followed him. I was very glad that we had proofed the building so that he couldn't just Apperate out of here. He turned right into a large room — the largest in the building — where you could see the roof. I barely saw Taylor hiding in the shadows on the second story walkway. I purposely held back so that she could get a few clean shots at him with one of her rifles. She fired four times, but he was a tricky one. He dodged all of them, seemingly with ease.

As I started moving towards him, he quickly fired a spell in Taylor's direction. It hit the guardrail not two feet away from her. I could see the fury spark in her eyes as she also made the switch to real bullets. She fired several more shots as I fired twice over his head to distract him.

Taylor was now running towards the stairs and the only other door. Our target turned sharply and started running up another set of stairs. In a few seconds, we were all on the second story walkway. Now he turned a corner and launched a spell in my direction. I ducked and it went over my head, but that action bought him some time. He took his chance and shot a spell at Taylor that I had never seen before. She dove for the ground, but just a moment too late.

The spell hit the wall behind her, but it had an unexpected result — it exploded, sending Taylor rolling down the stairs.

Now I was angry and it was one on one.

As he tried to see if she was dead or just unconscious on the ground, I pulled out my favorite weapon: the tri-barreled grenade launcher. I fired once, just as he looked up.

The explosion did two things to my advantage: it sent him crashing into the section of wall still intact from his attack by the stairs and it also sent his wand flying out of his hand.

As I closed in for hand-to-hand combat and turned his back to the stairs to face me, his wand crashed into the wall about twenty feet away with a satisfying crack.

He made the first attack with and uppercut and a punch aimed at my face. I dodged and ducked these, but then I did a combination: a fake kick, two fake punches, and a real kick aimed right at his hip. This attack was a success as it sent him sprawling off balance. He hit the guardrail hard, but he tried to get back up immediately. I punched him in the gut and kicked him in the groin and sent him to the floor. He got back up and then he tried to attack.

He tried a punch-punch-kick combination, but to his dismay, I blocked the first punch. But his second punch hit me high in the ribs by my right shoulder and his kick hit my left leg — hard; but my stance was better than his and he was not used to this kind of fighting, while I had experience in this field, so I kept my balance.

I prepared to launch another attack but found I would not need to. I heard a slightly metallic thunk and "Shark" looked stunned and fell to the ground, unconscious, to reveal Taylor standing right behind him on the stairs, a piece of metal debris in her hand.

"Come on," she said. "Let's take him in."


End file.
